Knýjum, Knýjum
by YoungAthena
Summary: After New York a message was sent. A warning. A challenge of sorts - mess with us, go on - i dare you. So far the warning has been heeded and the challenge declined and still the Earth turns. But this does not mean it will always be so...
1. Hljóð

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. Nothing but the story is my own.**

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**Chapter 1 - Hljóð**

It had been almost a year since New York. In fact, it had been 11 months, 2 weeks and 5 days since New York, 11 months, 2 weeks and 5 days of silence and Tony didn't like it one bit. He was not Hawkeye, who saw everything in the silence, who noticed and planned and understood in the quiet shadows. Tony understood noise and thrived on the loudness of life, his ultimate focus came in the midst of chaos. This…absence of noise…it unnerved and unsettled him.

He looked out across the city from the top of Stark Tower, a cold glass of scotch in his hand his only tether to reality as he pondered about this silence, more a pause it seemed, a brief interlude, the inhale before the exhale, and Tony didn't know what terrified him more, that there was a silence at all, or what would eventually and inevitably fill it.

'Hey Hawk,' he called over his shoulder, 'Whaddya see?' A beat. Tony wasn't even sure if Hawkeye was actually there, but since they had all gone their own ways it was the master assassin who had returned to Stark Tower most frequently, although sometimes all Tony ever saw of him was crumpled bed sheets or, slightly worryingly, bloodied bandages in the trash. The times that he had seen him, though, their interactions had led to a deep trust and mutual respect that both Avengers had been a little surprised by. Sure enough, Barton dropped soundlessly to the ground from one of the beams high above Tony's head.

'Huh,' Tony remarked, 'thought you might be in a corner somewhere, crouching in the shadows.'

'I don't crouch in the shadows Stark,' he sighed wearily as though they'd had this conversation several times.

'Oh, sorry, I forgot,' Tony smirked, 'the shadows are deep within you, the lone wolf, the renegade, the bird of prey…'

Barton snorted , 'Yep, and sometimes I think you're under the impression the light shines out of your own ass instead of your chest. Also, I think I'm more of a unicorn than a lone wolf or bird of prey.' He deadpanned. Tony's mouth quirked as he played a drumroll on the ARC reactor over his heart and raised an eyebrow, 'Unicorn, huh? Better ask Romanoff about that one…'

Hawkeye gave him 'the look' and so he quickly moved on from that particular train of thought, ' So whaddya think Hawkass? You see things better than I do.'

Barton walked to touch the glass, regarding the city sprawled before him. A pause, a breath, a beat, a thought. 'I think there's a storm coming. It's there, on the horizon'.

Tony's head snapped back sharply to look at him, an eyebrow raised, 'Are we talking in metaphors here or are you telling me that you can even see storms forming in the sky, because I know SHIELD has insurance policies out on both your eyes but even that would be some serious –'

'I read the weather report dumbass, storm should hit New York by nightfall.'

'Oh.'

Clint continued as though he hadn't heard him, still looking out over the Hudson ghosting a hand across the glass, 'I know what's bothering you, though Stark. It's too quiet for you, you can hear yourself think now and though I'm sure you're very much enjoying hearing what you have to say to yourself, it's starting to make you nervous because there's no problem for you to fix and no solution for you to find. There's a void and you can't focus anymore because there's nowhere for your mind to go.'

'So what do you think?' Tony asked again, playing with his glass, ice cubes clinking against the sides of the tumbler as he swirled the amber liquid, unsettled by how clearly Hawkeye saw right through him.

'I think that there's a storm on the horizon, Mr Stark. It still has far to go and strength to build but once it does it will come to us hard and fast. I see shadows in the corner of my eye that grow longer every day and there's a stillness in the world that I have never felt before. You and I know it's been too long since we were all together and can feel the pull, we all feel the pull.'

'Elastic band theory, right? We all go so far we'll eventually just bounce back,' Tony chuckled, more to himself than anyone else, burying himself in his drink as Hawkeye's words ricocheted around his head.

'Tony.' The sharp use of his first name had him standing to attention, hand almost reaching for a sloppy salute. The next thing he knew Hawkeye was in front of him, snatching the glass from his hand, talking low, hushed, and urgent. 'Tony, they will come back because we all know that something is not right and hasn't been for a long time. Thor may be back in Asgard, Bruce roaming the mountains of Pakistan or Kygyzstan or whatever '-stan' he's ended up in and Cap on some Kerouac trip 'finding' himself, but they're all on their way back because they feel the pull.'

'And Romanoff?' Tony interrupted playfully.

'In her room, sleeping, after she got back last night,' Barton shot back, rolling his eyes as Tony pretended to be burned. 'She came back because she feels it too, Stark. Fury feels it – it's not just you and I. There's something out there, waiting for its moment to come. It will come, Tony. It's coming.'

A moment of tension was broken only by the unexpected 'ding' of the elevator opening and out walked, no, stumbled, an exhausted and dishevelled Bruce Banner. He made it several steps before his legs began to give out on him. Tony started forward to catch him before he fell but as always Barton was ahead of him, lowering Banner gently onto a nearby couch.

'I made it...I'm home,' he breathed in wonderment, his face pale and drawn, his eyes starting to close as they savoured his success before suddenly flying open, darting between Barton and Stark as he clutched Hawkeye's arm. 'The shadows, the shadows…it's coming…it's coming.' With that his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost his grip on consciousness. His words, ominously echoing Hawkeye's own hung in the air.

After a second Barton snapped to attention, pulling out his cellphone, 'Call a doctor' he ordered, pulling Tony out of his reverie, before dialling a number on his phone. He marched to the elevator and Tony could just make out his words before the doors of the lift closed, 'Director Fury? It's Barton. We have Banner.'

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So that's it for my first fanfic! Hope you all enjoyed it - please read and review so that I know what's good, what's not, what's working and what isn't!

Thanks for reading so far!


	2. Kyn

**Disclaimer - Again, I own nothing.**

**Chapter 2 - Kyn**

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At that moment Bruce Banner couldn't look any less Hulk-like, ensconced in crisp white sheets with cheeks sunken from exhaustion. He was underweight and pale beneath his weathered tan that hinted at long periods of time spent outdoors. Not even a trace of green, or a movement at all and for a moment Tony, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, wanted nothing more than to provoke the monster to climb out of his hiding place in Banner's head and unleash the full power of his rage against the world. It would be a demonstration at least that Bruce was still alive, he reasoned, better than…this. He shook those thoughts clear from his head, chastising himself for being so selfish. The doctors had declared Bruce to be severely sleep deprived and malnourished, sedating him for the time being to allow him time to rest while administering much needed nutrients through an IV drip, and ending his current state would be completely detrimental to his recovery. Tony, for all his childish wants and needs, could not bear to see a friend suffer.

That was another thing, he mused as he sank into a chair next to Banner's bed. A friend. He hadn't always had many of those, when he was young other children were often driven away by his quirky nature or hated him for his rich parents, at MIT he was resented for being there at such a young age, and as an adult…well he'd gone so long without real friends that he didn't really see the need for them, did he? He had Rhodey and Pepper and…JARVIS? He sighed, now he had the Avengers and he knew that they were who he had been waiting for his whole life. Steve, a man he couldn't help but respect and even admire and whose clear and unwavering morals he missed when he could feel himself losing his way. Thor, a god of all things, indulged the side of him that would always be an adolescent and had proved to be a very willing partner in crime. All other members of the team could attest to that. Natasha had barely tolerated him in the beginning, but now even she smiled at his jokes and had even laughed once which, according to Hawkeye, was a major step forward. Then there was Clint himself, the man who saw everything, a confidante and a presence that made him feel safe. Finally Bruce, who possessed an intelligence equal to his that ignited his imagination and whose quiet voice of reason had often pulled him away from whatever precipice he was hanging off (once even literally, but that's a story for another day).

The soldier, the archer, the killer, the god, the hulk. Mia familia. If he even allowed himself to entertain that thought, but it had been so long since most of them had actually had any real family that they weren't entirely sure how it was meant to feel. In fact, Thor was the only one who had had family into adulthood and sometimes Tony wasn't sure that he was the best role model for them on this front.

He sighed again and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to rub tired from his eyes as his mind drifted to the last time they had all been together. 5 months ago, Steve's birthday and there had been a massive row over what age he was – 26 or 92? Tony had obviously pushed for 92 but in the end they had compromised with a cake that said 92 but had 26 candles. Everyone had been there that day; even Fury had made a guest appearance and sang happy birthday in what had to be one of the strangest moments of Tony's life. He chuckled a little to himself at that memory, such a good time before…this.

'Glad you're enjoying yourself Stark.'

That voice, he knew that voice! He turned in his chair to see Natasha Romanoff leaning against the doorframe. She didn't even wait for a greeting before she had slipped into a chair beside him. Together they watched the subtle rise and fall of Banner's chest, even when asleep he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Tony broke the silence first.

'Glad you're back,' he said shortly.

'Hawk said you would be. Said that you're driving yourself crazy here alone. Where is Pepper by the way?'

'Business trip to San Francisco, she'll be back in a couple of days. So if you're asking…'

'I'm not.' She rolled her eyes, but secretly glad that he was at least keeping up appearances of normalcy.

'Well if you ever do…'

'I won't.' the smallest of smiles and she knew he had seen it and his objective had been achieved.

'Did Katniss brief you on…things yet?' he asked, suddenly wondering where Barton had gone.

'You know he really hates that nickname. One day you're going to say it and find an arrow sticking out of your foot. On second thoughts, keep using it, please. And yes he has.'

'I wish he would wake up and tell us what he meant.'

'I hope he knows what he meant.'

Tony grimaced, 'Well yeah, that too. What made you come back?'

She shrugged and he noticed her hair had grown again, it was over her shoulders. When had that happened? 'I hadn't had any assignments for a while and I felt it was time. That and Thor.'

'Thor?' he turned to look at her in confusion. 'What about Thor? He didn't even send me a card for my birthday.' He pouted, incredulous.

'Exactly – there's been nothing from him in months. SHIELD keeps track of everyone, and even if they didn't Steve sends us his postcards and Bruce emails and you're never off the front page of the tabloids – '

'Yes I am!'

'No you're not. Thor checks in at least with Jane Foster when he can, but I spoke to her and she's heard nothing either. You and I also know that he would have composed and sung an epic poem for your birthday like he did at Steve's,' they both winced at the memory, 'given half the chance, and would have been rehearsing it for weeks beforehand.'

'No one else was here, maybe he just wanted to save it for a bigger audience than myself and Pepper…'

'No, you know Thor. He would have done it for the two of you and then given you a cuddly toy Mjolnir as a parting gift. So where was he? And where is he now?'

Tony Stark, always full of comebacks and witty retorts, a man never lost for words, had no reply.

He cursed himself for not noticing sooner, or at least not paying attention to what had been staring him in the face. He cursed that something was happening that he could not understand in a world far out of his reach. He gritted his teeth and gnawed at the inside of his cheek as he tried desperately to find connecting strands between Thor's absence, Bruce's weighted words and the feelings of anticipation that he knew they all felt. He felt so hopelessly out of his depth, something he couldn't often say about himself.

Well, he thought to himself, at least there were four of them there now. Four out of six isn't too bad.

At that moment, the door was flung open to reveal Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, completely drenched from the New York rain, hair plastered to his forehead, dripping water all over the floor, breathless and spent.

Well, damn. Make that five.

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Thank you so much to all of you who read and reviewed and alerted, etc! I was really surprised and gratified by the number of you who did! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please please let me know what you're liking!

Also, 'Knýjum, knýjum' comes from and old Norse battlecry and means 'press on, press on'.


	3. Varðmaðr

**disclaimer: I own nothing, yadda yadda.**

**A/N - thanks again to all who read this, I am eternally grateful and still figuring out my voice in all this and where it's all headed (although I have a fairly good idea). The one thing I'm struggling with at the moment is pacing and if you could let me know what you think of it, are things moving too slowly or just right, it would be really helpful! I feel like this one's a bit of a slow burner, I just don't want it to burn itself out before anything actually happens! Please please, read, review, and enjoy!**

**Y.A.**

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They stayed all night.

After Steve had been ordered to take a shower by Natasha ('Captain, with all due respect, you stink.') and Clint had returned from whatever ledge he had been perched on, Tony grabbed them beers and they took up their places in Bruce's room. They played board games to pass the time as they usually did when they were all together, a stab at normality when the situation was anything but, and frequently they glanced over at Bruce, concern furrowing brows and fondness softening eyes.

It wasn't a vigil. Vigils are for the dying and Bruce certainly wasn't dying. It was more a guard, like the Knights Templar Tony joked softly. So was Bruce Banner the Holy Grail, Clint ventured, a thought which kicked off one of the more philosophical, if redundant, conversations of the night, especially as Tony complicated the whole matter by insisting that, in fact, he was the Holy Grail of the group.

'Because, guys, just look at me!'

They all did, equally unimpressed.

That was their night. Beers, banter and board games, which slowly turned into coffee and cat-naps as the sun began to rise over New York City. Not once did they discuss Thor's absence, which felt like a dam waiting to be filled, nor did they speculate on Banner's words and neither Tony nor Clint felt the need to bring up the conversation they'd had prior to Bruce's reappearance. It just wasn't the right time for any of that. The right time would come when Bruce was awake and whole again and they could properly sort through their problems. And god, did they have a lot of problems.

This was how Bruce found them when he finally woke the next morning –

Cap sound asleep on an armchair, arms and legs spilling out over the sides, head back mouth wide open, drooling. Clint and Natasha side by side as usual, both dozing but she with her legs laid across him and he with his arms draped over them protectively. Banner's eyes took in a table set up between them all which bore the remnants of their night, beer bottles strewn across the surface amidst what appeared to be evidence of a particularly hard fought game of Risk, and Tony closest to him, asleep with his legs propped up on his bed.

Not exactly the scene he had been expecting but he could roll with it. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting really, but he was glad for them in that moment and glad to be home. Home. When Stark Tower had become home for them all he wasn't quite sure, but it was an unspoken and unacknowledged truth that it was.

He groaned inwardly as a wave of fatigue washed over him, putting lead in his limbs and settling decisively as a throbbing ache in his head and was honestly relieved when the darkness claimed him again.

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He started to return to consciousness later that day, a vague feeling of a weight being lifted and a curtain drawn. He could hear voices hovering somewhere near him and could pick out certain voices. Steve, Tony, Natasha, then Tony, Clint, Tony again. Tony. Tony. Tony.

'Do you think we should wake him up soon? I mean, we don't want to completely ruin his sleeping patterns.' That was Steve, ever the practical man.

'God Captain Underpants can't you just let a man sleep a little? You've obviously never had to sleep off a really bad night have you?'

'Stop whining Tony, it doesn't look good on you.' He could hear the roll of Natasha's eyes.

'Everything looks good on me.'

'Lycra doesn't. We've all seen the photos of when you tried on Cap's suit and it wasn't pretty.' Clint drawled and Bruce could hear him twanging a freshly strung bow. This he snorted at, he definitely remembered the photos, a sight burned into his retinas. Pretty it was not.

'Guys, I think he's waking up!' Tony's voice was louder and very close to Bruce's ear. Alarmingly close. He risked cracking open one eye to assess Stark's proximity to his own face. As it turned out, there was a space of about 2 centimetres between his face and Stark's. Joyous. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as though trying to will Tony a way.

'Hey, hey Bruce. Bruuuuuce. Brucie Brucie Bruce Bruce.' Tony sang to him. No such luck then.

'You know,' he coughed against a dry throat, 'Being this close to you is making me a feel a little green. And I know the other guy could do with a little…walk.' He opened his eyes again and was relieved to find that Tony had moved a little farther away from him, a look of horror on his face.

'You wouldn't intentionally set the Hulk on me! We're bros! Science bros! Nothing can break that bond!'

'An arrow through your head might,' Clint snarked from the corner of the room.

'Can it Katniss.' Even before he could finish speaking an arrow had rushed past him, disconcertingly close to his eyeball. He gulped. Natasha cocked an eyebrow at him, with that small movement her meaning was clear: I did warn you.

'Urgh, Tony you're killing me here…' Bruce managed to sneak in before the real bickering started and they all turned towards his bed as they remembered why they were all really there.

'Sorry', Steve smiled apologetically, and even Tony managed to scuff his toes and shut up in a show of remorse. 'Come on, let's leave him to get up and get dressed. I know we all have things to do before…we catch up.'

Thus, with the orders from their leader imparted, they all trooped out of Bruce's room, leaving Bruce to attempt to piece back together the events that had brought him home.

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Eventually they all found their way to the kitchen, which was the nucleus of all of their activity. One by one they drifted in until they were all sat around the large table, various food and drink in hand. When Bruce stepped into the room, hair still wet from the shower but looking and feeling significantly more alive than earlier, they ceased whatever argument they were having (pancakes vs waffles, as it happened) and looked at him with expectant eyes.

Out of nowhere Tony placed a cup of coffee in his hand and steered him to an empty seat at the table. Bruce scanned the rest of the room as he sat because he had finally worked out what had been missing earlier.

'Where's Thor? He not here yet?' he sipped the coffee and damn was it good, but then it was Tony Stark and Tony Stark only had the best. Tony Stark had often told Bruce this himself.

'Uhh..not here yet. But he will be.' Steve said firmly.

'Soon.' Tony interjected.

'Yes, soon, thank you Tony.'

'No problemo, el capitan!' Tony took a gulp of his Scotch – Bruce wondered fleetingly how much more drinking his friend had been doing recently – before he suddenly became very serious. The mood in the entire room seemed to change and it even appeared darker, as though JARVIS was controlling the light filters on the windows in tune with Tony's moods.

'Bruce…you said something when you came back, just before you collapsed. Something about shadows. You said….'it's coming'. What are the shadows? What are you talking about? What's coming?'

Four pairs of eyes burned into him, questioning, confused, nervous. He took a deep breath to steady himself. His story wasn't going to be an easy one to tell or for them to hear. He himself didn't understand most of it or what it meant.

'Well,' he started hesitantly, feeling like the kid at camp sitting with a torch under his chin ready to top all other stories with the most terrifying tale of them all. 'It started in Kazakhstan…'


	4. Spá

**Disclaimer: not mine!**_  
_

**Again, thanks to all who review! I keep meaning to message you all personally to thank you, but I haven't seemed to be able to find the time :( You know who you are and you are all awesome! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Also, bonus points for anyone who can guess/find out the meanings of all the chapter names!**

**Y.A.**

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_'Well,' he started hesitantly, feeling like the kid at camp sitting with a torch under his chin ready to top all other stories with the most terrifying tale of them all. 'It started in Kazakhstan…'_

Bruce speaks the way he always does, slowly and deliberately, each word carefully considered and selected.

'I left New York to spend some time in non-populated areas because sometimes always being around people makes me nervous. The space gives me time to…refresh myself, I guess. So I decided to go to central Asia where there are vast expanses of land that is either uninhibited or home to nomadic tribes, perfect for…blowing off some steam.'

He had managed to keep eye contact with them all up to this point, but admitting to them that part of the reason he had gone on this little sojourn was to allow the Hulk to run loose was somewhat shameful to him. He looked away, out of the window where there were no eyes judging him, or pitying him. He wasn't sure which one he hated more. Judgement, probably, he mused. He'd taken enough pity already to last him a lifetime, he was over that.

He was snapped back from the recesses of his mind by an obviously fake cough, an incredibly unsubtle hint that could have come from no one but Tony. 'Let him go at his own pace, Stark,' Cap scolded and Tony even had the decency to look apologetic, although he always had to have the last word.

'I'm just saying, I think I just aged 20 years here…but hey I'm still looking good!' he grinned and Bruce smiled back because, although Steve and Clint and Natasha thought it was best for him to go at his own pace, Tony understood how he was prone to thinking things through in his mind and forgetting to say them out loud, even when other people were around. That was the curse of spending so much time alone, your own company becoming your only company. Why talk when you already know everything you're going to say? Tony got him like that. It was relieving; he kept Bruce in the world of other human beings.

'I started to feel like I wasn't alone, though, even when my tech told me that there was no one within a 100 mile radius. There was always something just in the corner of my eye that when I looked wasn't there, or the feeling of a presence at my back, but whenever I turned around it was gone. Whispers in my ear that I could never quite hear…

I thought I was going crazy –'

'You already are!'

'Yes, thank you Tony, I am. So…I moved. I crossed into Russia, thinking whatever it was would be left behind in Kazakhstan.' He hesitated, this was only the beginning.

'But it wasn't.' Natasha clarified, looking at him intently, her body language suggesting she was wound tight as a spring ready for release.

'No, it wasn't.' he agreed, looking at her almost apologetically. He wished this whole thing had ended in Kazakhstan. He wished that he could end his story there and then and they could all relax just a little. He couldn't remember the last time he had been really relaxed. He couldn't remember the last time he had got what he wished for either. Wishes were for children and the delusional. Wishes were for fools.

'In Russia it was the same, no matter where I went the same feelings followed me. Shadows and whispers. Only…' he hesitated again. 'Only then the dreams started.'

Four pairs of eyes stared at him. 'I'm guessing they weren't the going to school with no trousers type of dreams…' Tony said, laughing nervously, as ever using humour to mask the fear that was starting to knot his stomach.

'No.' Bruce almost whispered. 'The dreams, sometimes they were more like visions in that some were hazy and others felt so real, like I was living it. They weren't all the same, but I had some more frequently than others. Dreams of water gushing, like a tsunami. I saw a city once, that's not on Earth, with its buildings turning to dust. Screams in my head. Loki…'

'Loki?'

In any other situation the collective gasp might have been funny; it was like having a pantomime audience reacting to the performance of one.

'I saw him twice, but he wasn't alone. I didn't see who was with him, just the feeling of a presence there. Mjolnir buried in sand. Silence in between the screams. A shadow looming over everything.'

He took a deep breath, and they didn't blame him. They were pretty sure that they had never heard him speak so much before. He hated to be the centre of attention and here he was, holding them captive with his story.

'It was all too much for me, I wasn't sleeping as I tried to block out the images. I could almost feel the shadows creeping in on me. I got ill, really ill, and was in a state of delirium for almost two weeks. An old lady took care of me in her hut…'

He paused again, trying to find the right way to explain it to them.

'I don't remember anything from those two weeks. I drifted in and out of consciousness. The old lady, she said that I would talk in my sleep. She said that I would beg for mercy, for help, for god, for anything to make it stop. She said that I cried sometimes and asked to die. She said that sometimes my voice didn't sound like my own and that she thought I was possessed by a demon.'

He looked at them wearily, still bone tired from his efforts to return from them, and from telling his story. He considered how this was going to change everything, knocking them out of the slumber they had fallen into. 'She said that I repeated the same word the whole time, over and over and over.'

He looked up, the atmosphere in the room tense. Even Tony was leaned forward listening intently, so hint of humour creasing his face. Another beat. Bruce broke the tension.

'Ragnarök.

Ragnarök.'


End file.
